


a long way from sober

by vexatioustothespirit



Series: parts of thoughts and fragments of ourselves [3]
Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/F, It's all about the YEARNING, Mild Hurt/Comfort, alcohol use, some feels and all that, some more dumb drunk idiots, will they ever learn? who knows
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-23
Updated: 2020-06-07
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:13:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23797486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vexatioustothespirit/pseuds/vexatioustothespirit
Summary: Adora and Catra are always just a little-too-drunk and everything between them is always not-quite-right. (But maybe it could be.)
Relationships: Adora/Catra (She-Ra)
Series: parts of thoughts and fragments of ourselves [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1379590
Comments: 70
Kudos: 436





	1. part i -- adora

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place a few weeks after the previous part in this series, but also works as a standalone if that's what you're into.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _wherever we are, just hold me like I'm yours tonight_

Adora really shouldn’t be out right now and she knows it.

She’s too drunk too alone and it’s too cold. Also, it’s too a Wednesday night. Everything being too much is how she ended up here though. 

She takes out her phone and—

She looks at the snow falling through the air, illuminated by the sole streetlight on the road. The flakes go in and out of focus as her head spins. The cold, though, there is nothing fuzzy about that. It is sharp and it is crisp and it is biting and there is just something about a cold winter’s night that strikes you to your core and makes you want to confess every feeling you’ve ever had and—

She thinks that is a bad idea. So she takes out her phone to text Glimmer.

 **12:48 AM | Adora:** hi I got todurbk canyos come ferns 

**12:48 AM | Adora:** get me

Feeling accomplished at taking care of herself, she sits down with her back against the nearest building and lets her eyes rest for a moment so that the world might stop spinning for a while. 

\--- 

A snowy night can be one of solitude. The snow muffles out all other sounds leaving you alone with your thoughts. And that can just let them tumble over and over as you think and you want and you wish and you ache and you—

\---

“Adora.”

“Hmm?”

“Adora, what are you doing?”

She opens her eyes, shaking her head a bit because everything is still just a bit dizzy—but that’s not—that definitely has to be—

“Catra.” 

Catra frowns slightly for a moment (or at least Adora thinks she does? Her vision is still coming into focus). “Yeah.” When Adora doesn’t move, she holds out her hand. “C’mon. Let’s get you home. You shouldn’t be out here; you’ll get buried in the snow.” 

For a moment, Adora stares dumbfounded at the hand in front of her before reaching out and grasping it. Catra pulls her to her feet and she stumbles forward a bit and tumbles slightly onto Catra and—

“Sorry,” she mumbles.

“...’sokay,” Catra replies after a pause. They both hang for a moment, caught between the falling snow. “C’mon let’s go, princess.”

\---

A snowy night has a powerful nostalgia. The silence of the snow muffles everything around you and leaves you with nothing but your own thoughts. And so it is that you remember and you ache and you wish and you hope—

\---

“I gottdrunktoday becauz I wanted t’talkt’you,” Adora slurs, most of the words blurring together.

Catra pauses. “You what?”

Adora stares at a point just beyond Catra’s shoulder, her eyes unfocused. She blinks lazily, then looks directly into Catra’s eyes. Her stare is so far off yet so immediate and wanting all at the same time and it too much all at once. Catra looks away. 

“Uh, Adora?” Catra prompts carefully when Adora has still not responded. Adora blinks a few times at the sound of her name.

“Hm?” she hums.

“You… never mind.” 

They resume walking. 

\---

A snowy night can be one of loneliness. The snow muffles out all of the sound, leaving you alone with your thoughts. But that’s not how it is or maybe how it was or maybe how you want it to be but you’re alone alone alone and you ache—

\---

“Catra.” 

Adora is grasping Catra’s arm (when did she do that? It’s hard to recall). 

“What, Adora?” It seems like Catra tried to put malice in her words but there’s none there. (If there were, she wouldn’t be here, right now, on this stupid Wenesday night in the snow.)

“Can we go to your place?”

Catra pauses. “Why.”

Adora pauses. “It’s closer.”

(It’s not.)

“It’s not.”

“Please.”

Catra pauses. “Okay.”

Adora smiles then, and it’s a lopsided sloppy messy sort of thing, the sort of thing that grips your heart and squeezes it and leaves you gasping. Catra holds her gaze for too long before she looks away and keeps walking. 

\---

A snowy night can be one of—

\---

Catra takes out her keys to unlock the door to her apartment. “I can stay on the couch,” she says. “You can take my bed. Just don’t fucking puke on it.”

Adora leans on her, her chin on her shoulder. “I won’t,” she mumbles, her breath hot in Catra’s ear. She jerks forward, opening the door with a sudden shaky motion. 

“I’m gonna get some water,” she says, her voice low as she walks over to the kitchen. There’s a nearly empty bottle of wine beside the sink. 

“Here you go.” She hands Adora a glass of water as she sips her own.

“Thanks.”

They sip in silence for an indeterminate amount of time.

“Uh… thanks for helping me,” says Adora finally. “You didn’t have to do that.”

Catra shrugs. “Yeah, well…” She shrugs again and takes another sip. “Whatever, y’know.” 

Adora laughs, but it comes out more like a sob. “I’m a bit of a mess.” 

Catra doesn’t meet her eyes. “Yeah.” 

Adora laughs again. “Fuck. I’m sorry.” She hiccups and wipes at her face. “This was stupid, I don’t know what I was thinking, I’m sorry I’ll just—” 

“Hey.” Catra is in front of her, placing her hands on her shoulders. “Stop it. I told you it’s alright.” 

Adora hiccups again and the sobs break through and start coming in earnest. Without thinking, she buries her face in Catra’s shoulder. Catra stiffens for a moment, then relaxes, placing her arms around her. 

“I’m sorry.”

“Stop that.”

“I’m a mess.”

“Yeah, well... join the club.” 

“Do you hate me?”

“No.”

“I’m really drunk.”

“Yeah you are.”

“I’m sorry I’m such a mess.”

“It’s alright.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You should get some sleep.”

Adora sniffs. “Yeah.” She breaks away enough from Catra’s embrace to wipe at her bleary eyes. “You’re right.” 

An eternity or really just a few inches stand between them. She looks into Catra’s eyes and feels thousands of things unsaid churning in her stomach, fighting to break free. It’s almost as if there is a physical tension between them, waiting for the fracture and for entropy to take its course, bringing them—

Adora kisses her.

It’s hungry and it’s sloppy and it’s desperate and it’s electric and just as it starts it’s over. She holds her breath as she opens her eyes and stares at Catra’s surprised face. A hiccup shakes her from the moment and she immediately averts her gaze. 

“I’m sorry,” she mumbles, her eyes trained on the floor. 

“...don’t be,” Catra responds after a beat and Adora looks up at her again and she feels Catra’s hand just-so-slightly grazing up and down her back and she feels again just how close they both are to falling and falling and falling and she _aches_ and—

Catra steps back. The loss of contact is sobering. “I’m fucking tired. Drink some more water so I can go to sleep.” 

A pit sinks in Adora’s stomach but she nods and refills her glass with tap water, drinking it in silence. Catra runs her fingers through her own hair before putting her glass down and walking over to the couch, grabbing a blanket off the floor and rearranging the cushions. 

“My room’s over there,” she grunts, gesturing at an open doorway before flopping onto the couch. “Don’t puke on my bed.”

Adora smiles faintly. “I won’t.” She gulps down a last swing of water and crosses the room, stopping to linger by the open doorway. 

“Catra.”

Catra rolls over to look at her. “Adora.”

“Could you…” She shifts back and forth. “Would you… uh…” 

Catra blinks sleepily up at her. “What is it, Adora?”

Adora sighs, pulling her arms close to her chest, her eyes far away. “I don’t want to be alone,” she mumbles. 

For a moment, she isn’t even sure if Catra heard her, but then she tosses off her blanket and gets to her feet. “Yeah. Okay.” She brushes past Adora and hops into her bed, gesturing to a spot beside her. “C’mon.”

Adora smiles and crawls into bed beside Catra, tucking her head in the warm crook of Catra’s neck. “Sorry,” she mumbles. 

Catra grunts. “It’s okay.” A beat. “I didn’t really wanna be alone either,” she says so softly Adora isn’t sure if she was meant to hear it. 

And even as Adora warms inside she aches and she buries her head further, her face brushing against Catra’s hair. It smells so familiar and yet so far away. If Catra notices the hot tears falling from Adora’s eyes onto Catra’s bare skin, she makes no acknowledgement of it (other than maybe just gripping Adora a little bit tighter). 

Finally, Adora closes her eyes and drifts into sleep or freefall or maybe everything all at once. 

\---

Adora wakes up a few hours later, maybe remembering something is amiss but not quite remembering why but then Catra’s arms are around her and she aches and then she knows she shouldn’t be here and she knows she fucked up and she knows.

She closes her eyes so she doesn’t have to know right now. The security of the arms around her waist carries her quickly back to sleep. 

\---

In the morning Adora wakes up with an aching in her head and an aching in her heart. 

She says she doesn’t remember what happened last night. She was drunk and she was sorry for bothering her. It’s a lie. They both know it. She leaves, her feet making new tracks in the fresh coat of snow. 

For a moment, she pauses and thinks about turning back. She thinks this is a bad idea, so she takes out her phone to text Glimmer. 

Her phone is dead.

She sighs and pulls her scarf tighter. Best to get home, then.


	2. part ii -- Catra

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _time is passing but we’re still drinking  
>  life is passing us by  
> we’re drinking last week’s alcohol._

Adora spends the next week avoiding Catra.

Well, that’s not exactly true since she never even sees Catra. Not that the two had seen much of each other on a regular basis to begin with, but Adora had finally felt like they had started to smooth things over and…

She shakes her head. And then she’d gone and ruined everything by being a drunken idiot. She thinks maybe she should take a break from drinking.

(But, she also thinks how dreadfully unfair it is that she is once again stuck in the apartment doing work when Bow and Glimmer have gone out to bars.)

(Maybe she can start on her resolution next week.)

In the end, she decides a glass of wine with her problem set couldn’t hurt. 

As soon as she finishes pouring her glass she hears a loud knock at the door. She frowns, placing the bottle on the table and crosses the room to open the apartment door.

“Hey, Adora.”

Adora’s eyes widen. Catra is standing—well, leaning—in the doorway, her eyes half-lidded and a crooked smile on her face. Her shirt, partially untucked, has one-too-many buttons undone at the top to be decent and Adora can feel heat rising to her cheeks as her gaze lingers. 

“Catra,” she finally says, after almost-certainly staring too long. “What are you doing here?”

“So welcoming,” drawls Catra, stepping unsteadily through the doorway and tossing her jacket on the couch. Her breath reeks of alcohol and cigarettes. “You have anything to drink?”

“Um, I can get you a glass of water—” Adora starts, but Catra already has the opened bottle of wine in her hand. She takes a swig from the bottle and leans on the table, glancing at Adora’s papers.

“Doing work, Adora? How boring.” 

Adora nervously glances between Catra and the open apartment door, then quietly shuts it. “Catra, is everything okay?” 

“No more fucked up than usual,” answers Catra with a dark chuckle. She runs her fingers through her hair and fixes Adora with a wolfish grin that simultaneously unsettles and excites her. Instinctively, she crosses her arms around her chest as a sort of barrier.

“Okay, well you’re giving off a pretty weird energy right now,” she mumbles. At this, Catra throws back her head and laughs. 

“Oh, A _dor_ a,” she says slowly, giving a long, drawn out emphasis to each syllable of her name. “Adora, Adora.” She giggles, placing the bottle down and crossing the room so that she is standing in front of Adora. She throws her arms over Adora’s shoulders, lacing her fingers behind her neck. Adora’s breath hitches and her heart pounds in her chest and she’s sure Catra must be able to hear it. 

“Catra,” she whispers, her voice unsteady. “What… what are you…” She trails off as the fire inside of her burns at the predatory way Catra is eyeing her. 

Catra laughs again and the smell of alcohol and smoke and _Catra_ puts Adora in such a daze that she can no longer remember whether or not she is drunk and Catra’s eyes are trained on Adora’s mouth and then Catra whispers, “I think you know,” before leaning forward to close the distance between their lips. 

She tastes of wine and whiskey and smoke and Adora’s head reels as she stumbles backwards into the door and the full weight of Catra presses up against her. And god, she is fire, she is electric, and every nerve in her is exploding as her hands reach up to Catra’s hair to pull her even closer and Catra’s leg pushes up between hers and she sees stars and—

She stumbles away from the kiss with a gasp, steadying herself on the kitchen counter. Catra leers at her with those half-lidded eyes and oh how easy it would be to just give in to them but—

“Catra, what are you doing?” she finally manages. Catra’s eyebrows rise, but she smirks.

“Seemed like you were enjoying it.”

“That’s not—Catra, you can’t just barge in here drunk and… and…” 

Catra scoffs. “I’m not that drunk.” (Obviously false, but—) 

“It’s not just that, it’s—” 

Catra’s expression darkens. She grits her teeth and scowls. “I thought this is what you wanted.”

“I… what?” 

“Last week, you texted me and, and then you…” Catra trails off with a _‘tch’_ and turns away from Adora. “Just forget it,” she growls, fiddling with the lock on the front door. 

Her mind still reeling from the kiss, it takes Adora a moment to react. “Catra, wait.” 

“What.” Her voice is dripping with venom as she clenches her hand into a fist. “Adora, what do you _want_ from me?” It comes out as a plea, her voice a fraction from breaking. Adora wavers. 

“Catra…”

When she trails off, Catra repeats, this time softer. “What do you _want_?” Adora is frozen, unsure what to do, what to say, what to feel— 

“Catra, I…” She’s interrupted when Catra slams her fist on the door. 

“Stop saying my fucking name!” she shouts, the intended malice undercut by the crack in her voice. “Just forget it.” 

And Catra is crying and Adora reaches out to her because how did everything go so wrong so fast and—

“Catra, I—”

“What the fuck did I just say?” Catra shouts, pulling away from Adora’s touch as if burned. Finally, she clicks the lock and opens the door in a jerky motion, stumbling outside.

“C—wait!” Adora rushes after her and manages to catch her wrist. 

“Don’t fucking touch me!” She rips her arm out of Adora’s grip.

“What’s going on?” pleads Adora. 

“What the fuck do you _think_ is going on, Adora?” She fixes Adora with a stare and oh the tears running down her cheeks, how Adora just wants to wipe them away but she is afraid and she is frozen and she does not move. “Last week, _you_ kissed _me_. I just thought I’d return the favor but apparently…” She clenches her jaw. “You can’t just play around with people, Adora. Jesus Christ I knew you were stupid but I didn’t think you were _that_ fucking stupid.”

Adora feels tears welling up in her own eyes. “That’s not fair.” 

“Fair?!” exclaims Catra. “What the fuck does that even mean?”

“I was drunk, it was a stupid mistake, I’m sorry!”

Catra recoils as if she’s been hit and Adora realizes with abrupt clarity that she’s somehow managed to say the worst possible thing. 

“I’m done. This was a stupid idea. Goodbye, Adora.” She takes a few steps and Adora once again moves to follow her, but Catra turns and growls, “Don’t fucking follow me.” She resumes walking. “God you are so fucking predictable.”

She walks away, her gait unsteady. This time, Adora does not chase her. Her vision blurs with tears as she watches her leave, and then her vision goes altogether as a sob breaks through and her hands go to her eyes to try and stop the tears from falling. 

“Catra,” she whimpers softly, her voice cracking at the exertion over those two syllables. Guilt tugs at her stomach at letting Catra walk back outside in the state she’s in but fear and hurt and thousands of emotions she cannot name keep her paralyzed. 

Finally, Adora returns to her apartment, shutting the door behind her. She looks over at the table where her homework lies next to the filled glass and opened bottle and she feels sick to her stomach. 

She grasps the neck of the bottle in her hand. Maybe she can start on her resolution next week.

With a sigh, she takes a swing from the bottle. It tastes like wine and smoke and whiskey and it makes Adora ache. 


	3. part iii -- Adora and Catra

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _I'm so glad that you are here  
>  and I know that it's been years  
> I'm just glad to see you  
> and there's no need for tears_

Somewhere around her fourth (or fifth) glass of wine, Adora notices Catra’s jacket thrown over the back of the couch. A couple of glasses ago she might have grabbed it and rushed out to find Catra. As she is now, she grabs the leather jacket and pulls it close, inhaling Catra’s scent and spiraling further into her own self-pity. With a stifled sob, she curls up on the couch, cradling it close.

\--- 

Adora doesn’t realize she’s dozed off until she jolts awake at the sound of the door opening. Crap. Bow and Glimmer. They’ll have questions that she isn’t ready to deal with, and—

“Hey.”

Adora gasps and turns around.

“Catra.” She shakes her head in confusion, blinking a few times in surprise. “But… how… wh….”

“You, uh, didn’t lock the door,” Catra mumbles, averting her gaze. “Um. I left my jacket here. It’s pretty fucking cold out so I came to get it. Where did…”

Adora feels heat rise to her cheeks as Catra’s eyes fall on her holding the jacket. She flies to her feet. “Oh! Yeah, sorry, I just noticed it and was trying to remember if it was mine… or not…” The excuse is flimsy even to her own ears.

Catra gives a small snort of amusement. “Yeah. Um. I guess I’ll take that and...” She shifts her weight back and forth uncertainly and shoves her hands into her pockets, but then hisses and pulls her hands out, cradling one hand to her chest. “Fuck!” 

Without thinking, Adora drops the coat and moves to her. “Are you okay?”

“Fuck. Yeah. Don’t worry about it.” She reveals the hand and it’s bloody and bruised.

“Oh my god, Catra, what happened?” Adora asks, gently taking Catra’s damaged hand in hers, all of the evening’s earlier heartaches immediately gone from her mind. Catra winces slightly but doesn’t pull away.

“I’m not sure,” she admits after a pause. “I think… I think I punched something. Or someone?” When Adora looks increasingly alarmed, she amends, “I don’t think it was someone. Probably just… a wall or something. Either way, my fist definitely lost.” She attempts a chuckle, but it falls flat. 

When Adora doesn’t respond, she continues. “Look, Adora…” she starts, once again averting her gaze, “I’m… I was an asshole before. I’m… I’m sorry.” She takes a deep breath. “Okay. I just wanted to say that. You don’t have to, like, forgive me or anything, I was a total jackass, and—“

“Catra,” whispers Adora, raising a hand to Catra’s cheek to brush some hair from her face—something she perhaps would not have been so bold as to do earlier this evening but she had drank nearly a full bottle of wine after all. “You’re okay.” Catra’s eyes widen in surprise at Adora’s touch, but then her expression falls. 

“No,” mumbles Catra, averting her gaze, her lip quivering slightly. “I’m not.” 

Wordlessly, Adora gently lets go of Catra’s hand. For a moment, Catra looks disappointed at the loss of contact, but then Adora embraces her. Catra stiffens. “You’re okay,” Adora murmurs.

“Why… why are you being so nice to me?” says Catra, barely above a whisper. “I don’t deserve it.” 

A pause, then, “I’m just glad you’re here.”

Catra gasps, then chokes on a sob as she leans in, burying her face in Adora’s shoulder. Her bruised hand hanging to the side, she wraps her other arm around Adora tightly, as if hanging on for her last chance at life.

They stand there for a while, Adora tracing calming patterns on Catra’s back as Catra’s breaths come in sharp gasps as she tries to hold back her tears. She’s still cold from the frigid winter night, which causes Adora to pull her even closer. In doing so, with every breath she breathes in the smoke and the fire that is Catra. She thinks there is no better smell than that. 

Eventually, Catra lifts her head and looks into Adora’s eyes. They hold the weight of each other’s gaze. “You’re drunk too, right?” Catra asks.

Adora smiles faintly and nods. “Yeah.” 

Catra’s eyes fall to Adora’s mouth and Adora’s heart flutters. “I’m…” Her breath is warm on Adora's cheeks. “I’m sorry I only talk to you when I’m drunk.” She closes her eyes and shudders. “It’s the only way I can convince myself to.” 

“Last week I got drunk off my ass because all I wanted to do was talk to you but I was too scared to,” Adora says with a sad chuckle. “So you’re not the only one.” A smile tugs at the corner of Catra’s lips. 

“Hah. We need to get it together.” 

“Yeah,” Adora affirms, closing her eyes and leaning in to press her forehead to Catra’s. Catra lets out a shaky breath, and then the two stand there a while, holding each other and breathing in everything that is each other.

“I should go,” whispers Catra without making any move to leave.

“Don’t.” 

“Yeah. Okay.” 

Adora smiles. “Okay.” Her hand slides down to Catra’s bruised one and her eyes flutter open. “We should probably clean this up though.” 

“Mm. Do we have to?” Her eyes are still closed but her lips are quirked into a smile. “I’m too drunk to feel it anyway. Seems like a problem for tomorrow Catra.” Adora feels fodness rise in her chest and she quickly leans in to deliver a chaste peck on the corner of her mouth. At this, Catra’s eyes open and her lips purse into a little ‘o’ of surprise. 

She grins at her then, and it’s that uninhibited happy sort of messy thing. “Nope. C’mon.” 

“...fine,” acquiesces Catra as Adora leads her to the sink. Catra again winces as Adora takes her hand and runs it under the water. Noticing this, an impulse strikes (the way drunken impulses do) and Adora leans in and gives a quick kiss to the back of her hand, noting with satisfaction the color that immediately rises to Catra’s cheeks.

“...ow,” mutters Catra, looking away to try and disguise her blush. Adora giggles then, and the resulting smile that graces Catra’s features makes her heart soar. 

“Brings back memories,” Adora says softly. “From when we were kids. Seems like one of us always had a scrape that needed cleaning.”

Catra smiles, her expression distant. “Mostly you, if I recall.”

“Mmm I’d say we were both constantly-injured nightmares.” 

“Yeah, I—ow!”

“Sorry, you know I need to clean the cuts.” 

Catra grumbles some sort of response but ceases her complaints and Adora continues her work. 

“There.” She turns off the water. “It’s at least clean. I can’t do much about the bruises, though.” She pauses and looks contemplative, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “I guess I could try and kiss them better,” she suggests. Catra’s ears turn red and Adora laughs again and gives another kiss to the back of her hand. When she looks up, Catra’s eyes again meet hers. 

“...thank you.” 

“Okay Catra I don’t think the kiss really helped that much.”

“Not that you idiot. For…” She shifts back and forth a bit. “...for… y’know.” 

Adora nods, maybe but not quite fully understanding, but at the very least understanding enough for it to matter.

Catra folds her arms around her chest, a gesture somewhat awkward as she navigates her injured hand. “I’m only saying this stupid stuff because I’m drunk. Don’t expect anything from me when I’m sober.” 

“Okay,” Adora replies simply. “I can deal with that.”

Catra’s arms unfold instantly. “Oh, uh… Alright.” She looks at her feet for a moment then looks toward the door. “Well, then I should probably…”

“Don’t say go, you dummy.” Adora takes her hand. “Stop trying to leave. Stay.” She gives it a squeeze. “With me.”

Catra looks over at her, her mouth again slightly open in surprise. Her jaw snaps shut. “Yeah. Okay.” Adora smiles and gives her hand another squeeze.

“C'mon let’s get some sleep.” After a brief pause, she adds, “As long as you don’t puke in my bed.” Catra rolls her eyes, prompting Adora to amend, “Sorry, I think it was actually don’t  _ fucking _ puke in my bed.”

“Alright, princess,” Catra deadpans, all the while unable to stop the corner of her lips from quirking into a smile. 

Following Adora’s lead, the two migrate to Adora’s room and tumble into her bed, laughing and tangling up with one another. When they finally settle down, Adora has her head on Catra’s chest with Catra’s arm wrapped around her. Still giggling, Adora shifts to look up at Catra, who is staring at her with a contemplative expression.

“What is it?” she asks.

“I still don’t get it,” Catra says softly, “How are you not angry with me?”

“Hm. I guess, I was.” She shrugs. “But then you were here, and I wasn't.” She gives Catra a kiss on the cheek and nestles her head in the crook of her neck. “I was just glad to see you.” 

(When she wakes later she’ll think it was a dream, but as Adora drifts off to sleep, Catra presses a gentle kiss to her forehead and whispers, “thank you.”)


	4. part iv -- sober

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _when I'm with you it's like everything glows  
>  and all my days we can lay low  
> yeah when we're waking up  
> we're waking up slow_

When Catra wakes up, the first thing that alerts her that something off is the way her right hand is throbbing.

The second thing is the blonde girl sleeping beside her.

Her eyes widen as the events of last night come back to her, all the while wincing at the aching of her head and her hand ~~and her heart~~. She should go, she thinks. But she also thinks she would hate to wake Adora up and how peaceful Adora looks when she is sleeping ~~and how she would obviously have to leave forever after this and never see this ever again and~~ — 

She wants to extend this moment as long as she can so she decides to be selfish and stay. 

For a while she stares at Adora’s face, memorizing every detail, committing every strand of her hair to memory, but eventually the weight of her eyelids betrays her and she drifts back off to sleep.

\---

When Catra wakes the second time, she is alone. 

She immediately sits upright (doing no favors to either her head or or her hand). Instantly, pain shoots up her arm and she pulls her hand to her chest as a string of colorful curses leaves her mouth.

Somewhere around the third or fourth “fuck this fucking fuck” the door opens and Adora walks through, a glass of water in each hand. Noticing Catra is up, she smiles.

“Hey,” she greets, nudging the door shut behind her.

“...Hey,” replies Catra tentatively, attempting a smile. 

“Here, I got us some water.” She hands Catra a glass, taking a sip from her own. “I have the worst dry mouth right now.” 

“Hm,” hums Catra by way of response. 

“How’s your hand?”

“Hurts,” she mumbles, her face heating as she remembers the kisses Adora left there last night. She tries another half-hearted grin. “But that’s what I get for getting piss drunk and punching Lonnie in the face.”

Adora’s jaw drops. “Catra, you punched Lonnie? I thought you said—” She’s interrupted when Catra can no longer contain herself and she begins to laugh. 

“I mean, I guess it could have been,” Catra amends when she’s calmed down, “I really don’t remember. But I don’t think Lonnie’s face would have fucked up my hand this bad.” And Adora is _pouting_ , honest-to-god _pouting_ which sends Catra into another bout of laughter. 

“Catra, I feel like you should be a little bit more concerned.”

“Oh, lighten up, princess. I feel like if anyone should empathize with punching out your feelings, it’s you. Anyway, nothing is broken.” To demonstrate, she (albeit slowly) clenches her fingers into a fist. “See?” When Adora still looks concerned, she adds, “It’s fine, I deserve it anyways.” 

Adora frowns. “That’s not true.” 

Catra shrugs. “Hm.” 

“Catra.” Adora sits down on the bed next to her. 

“What? I was a jerk.”

“You apologized, though.”

She shrugs again. “Hm.”

“Catra.” Adora places her head on Catra’s shoulder. “C’mon. It’s alright.”

Catra tenses up at the contact. “I just… after what happened last week…” She takes a breath to steady herself before continuing, “I thought… you... wanted me.” God, that sounded so stupid. Talking about feelings (especially while sober) was the _worst_ but it was about time she did one mature thing in her damn life. And then the seconds of silence pass as slowly as hours and Catra isn’t sure if her stomach is churning from the hangover or because Adora hasn’t said anything yet and—

And then of all things, Adora laughs and Catra wants to die on the spot. 

“Dummy,” she says, placing her hand over Catra’s. “I want you like this.” She gently traces her thumb back and forth along the side of Catra’s hand. “Here. With me.”

Catra stares down at their hands, her heart hammering in her chest as she processes Adora’s words. It may not have been exactly what she wanted to hear, but...

“But…” Adora adds, placing her glass on the bedside table while lifting her head off Catra’s shoulder. “I also…” She places her hand on Catra’s cheek, a nervous smile on her face, “...want you like this.” Then, after the briefest of pauses, she tilts her head and kisses her. 

The kiss is slow and tender—a sort of sleepy half-awake morning kiss, the kind that has a special unique intimacy to it when you’re accustomed to hungry, all-consuming drunken kisses in the dark. When Adora breaks from the kiss, she presses her forehead against Catra’s.

“Got it?” Adora asks.

“Yeah. I think so,” replies Catra, with a calmness at odds with the way her heart is pounding. Her smile turns mischievous. “I think… I think maybe you could stand to explain to me a bit more, though.” 

Adora giggles and this time it’s Catra who leans forward to press their lips together. It’s all much slower than Catra is used to, leading her to the stark realization that she’s never kissed anyone while sober before. She’s much more aware of Adora, of the movement of her lips, of the feel of her skin and she thinks it’s something she could really get used to. 

This time, what finally leads the two to break apart is the incessant vibrating of Adora’s phone. Catra frowns, then Adora says a quick “sorry!” and gives her a brief peck before turning to check her phone. Catra smiles, then groans overdramatically, throwing the weight of her body on Adora and knocking them both over onto the bed. 

“Ugh pay attention to meeee,” she whines. Adora laughs and rolls her eyes.

“You are such a drama queen.” 

“Ughhh I can’t believe I talked about my feelings while sober just to get _ignored_. This is the woooorst.” 

Adora once again gives her a quick kiss before turning and scrolling through all her notifications. Her eyes widen. “Uh oh.” 

“What is it?”

She grimaces and shows her phone to Catra. “My roommate group text.”

 **8:22 AM | Bow:** Whose leather jacket is out on the couch? Is that new?

 **8:24 AM | Glimmer:** it’s not mine

 **8:24 AM | Bow:** Oh cool jacket Adora!

 **8:28 AM | Glimmer:** wait

 **8:28 AM | Glimmer:** I know who’s jacket that is

**8:28 AM | Glimmer: 👀👀👀👀**

**8:28 AM | Bow: 👀👀👀👀**?????

 **8:28 AM | Glimmer:** Adora... 

**8:28 AM | Glimmer:** is Catra here????

 **8:28 AM | Bow:** Omg wait it’s Catra’s??? 

**8:29 AM | Bow:** Adora!!! Omg!!! 

**8:29 AM | Bow:** Tell Catra I say hi 👋 

**8:29 AM | Glimmer:** yeah adora 😏😏

 **8:29 AM | Glimmer:** tell 😏😏Catra 😏😏😏😏 we 😏 say 😏😏 hi 😏😏😘😘😏😏

 **8:29 AM | Bow:** **😂😂😂** Glimmer!! 

Catra laughs immediately after she finishes reading the texts. “I gotta give it to Sparkles, she’s devious.”

Adora groans, placing her phone back on the table. “I’m never gonna hear the end of this.” 

Catra’s smile is wicked. “Ooh, should I scandalize them and walk outside in my underwear?”

Adora freezes, her mouth opening and closing several times with no sound coming out as color steadily rises to her cheeks. Finally, she manages, “That’s—we didn’t even—” 

“Oh my god look at that blush, you prude.” 

“I am—I am not—”

Adora’s stammering is cut short when Catra leans in and kisses her again. After that, Adora seemingly calms down, a serene smile on her face, so Catra then leans in to whisper, “You were picturing me in my underwear, weren’t you?”

Instantly, Adora’s face turns a deeper color than before and she sits bolt upright. “Catra!” she sputters indignantly. “I—I was—”

Catra is once again unable to contain her laughter as she cackles loudly, her head now in Adora’s lap. “You dork.” And when her laughter begins to subside she looks up at Adora and...

And the way Adora is looking down at her, her lips pursed as she’s trying to look disapproving but clearly fighting the urge to smile, betrayed by the happy creases at the corner of her eyes… it is more than she could have ever hoped for and ~~it makes part of her want to run far away before she ruins another thing because she always has and always does and always always will and~~ — 

“I’m so glad you came back,” Adora whispers.

Catra blinks a few times, startled out of her thoughts, then smiles softly up at her. “Yeah well…” She closes her eyes and shrugs. “I had to get my jacket.” 

“Ugh you suck.”

“My hand hurts, you’re not allowed to be mean to me.” She yawns. “Hope you weren’t planning on going to class today, princess, because your lap is awfully comfortable.”

“Mmmm you’ve got fifteen minutes,” hums Adora as she starts to stroke Catra’s hair. It’s calming and it’s perfect and ~~it’s so much more than she deserves~~ —

It’s serene and it’s perfect and ~~she doesn’t belong here and she never will and~~ —

 ~~Because she’s nothing but a fuck up and~~ —

“Catra?”

“Hm?” Catra hums, opening her eyes to a smiling Adora looking down at her.

“Nothing. I’m just glad you’re here.” 

And that smile, truly believing in her, truly trusting her ~~when she’s a liar and a fuck up and a mess and~~ —

And that smile, making her believe that maybe she could be something better. That she _would_ be something better. That, maybe, she already was. 

She smiles back at her. “You idiot.” 

“Yeah.” And the look on her face, it’s just so soft and kind and wonderful and hopeful and—

And—

 ~~And~~ —

And dark thoughts full of self-hatred creep into Catra’s mind, but she tells that part of her mind to go fuck itself. 

“Mmmm can’t you be late to your class? Just like, five extra minutes?”

Adora chuckles. “Yeah, I can do that.” Catra smiles up at her.

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

(And it was.)


End file.
